


Cadence

by Articianne



Category: Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi (2017)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Dry Humping, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), kylo "i would give rey the entire fucking galaxy" ren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 01:36:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13136415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Articianne/pseuds/Articianne
Summary: Canon compliant with TLJ. - When the Stormtroopers hauled her out of the transport, they clasped the cuffs around her wrists and led her, one in front and one behind, after the man stepping down the hall in his overbearing black cape. Rey didn’t dare say a word or ask where they were going.But after plenty of twists and turns, they reached a door. “Where—”“My chambers,” he said, looming over her and dismissing the Stormtroopers. “Come in.”





	Cadence

**Author's Note:**

> can y'all believe we watched fanfiction in the cinema? 
> 
> and that Rey is the THIRSTIEST kylo stan?
> 
> i'm going to hug Rian Johnson and never let go

Her knuckles were white against the lightsaber in her hand, pressed against her chest, the air tight inside the transport with tension. And, Force, Rey _shouldn’t_ be doing this. But she was, and she didn’t regret it. At all. She knew what she’d seen, knew that the clog in her throat was the same thing that _he_ felt. Ben, who she could see whenever the world faded and he stood, large and ever-present, before her on Ahch-To.

Down there, down on _The Supremacy._

Inhaling, Rey tried desperately to calm her thoughts. They were tumultuous things, tumbling around her head and filling her with clamor—making her thighs press together, coiling in her abdomen and shifting around with a need she’d only experienced once, _hours ago_. When her hand had touched his own and her vision filled with white.

Her mouth went dry. She needed more of it.

Every moment that passed seemed longer than the last. But soon enough she saw the opening of one of _The Supremacy_ ’s hangers pass above her through the circular window above her head. Blood surged through her ears, thudding with energy, something unknown, something known—the transport slowed, the latches sounded, and Rey’s breath caught as it laid on the ground.

The latches unclasped, exhaled; through the vapor, she saw him, large, huge, _real._

And, stars above, she wanted to touch him again more than ever.

But he said nothing, stared straight at her instead until she felt her brows draw slightly together in a frown. Of course—this wasn’t another connection. There were others here in _The Supremacy,_ into which she’d recklessly charged, hoping that she could wrap her arms around Ben and take him home to the Resistance. When he stepped away, her eyes caught onto the Stormtroopers behind him. In one’s hands, restrictive cuffs. In the other’s, a blaster.

Her mouth, which had been open in half-awe, half confusion, shut her thoughts away. She swallowed.

The Stormtroopers hauled her out of the transport, took the lightsaber, and clasped the cuffs around her wrists. They led her forward, one in front and one behind, after the man she’d chased after, who was stepping down the hall in his overbearing black cape. Rey didn’t dare say a word or ask where they were going. She could have—he likely would have answered her—but the marvel of seeing him here and willingly cuffing her wrists was enough to keep her mouth shut for now.

And it was enough to feel him closer. Their connection, whatever it was, seemed combustive between them. Any sort of unpredictable move and she would lose her mind, she was sure of it. Tinged with the desire to rip the gloves off his hands. To lose herself in them. To drag a finger along the scar on his right cheek, to carve the shape of his nose, to stare at his lips as he whispered reassurances to her in the dead of the night—

—she blinked, had to remember that she wasn’t still on Ahch-To, and stared ahead at the door in front of them. They’d arrived without her realizing. “Where—”

He didn’t look at her, instead turning to the Stormtroopers and dismissing them, not before taking the lightsaber away. Once they were gone, he said, “My chambers.” His eyes dropped to the floor, before he chanced a look to her from the corner of his eye.

Rey swallowed again. “Okay.”

Seemingly satisfied, he twisted around to unlock the door, and it slid open with a gasp. “After you,” he said, following a long, long, _long_ second of silence. “And then I have to take you to Supreme Leader Snoke.”

Those last three words weighed immeasurably on her shoulders. “You do,” she said. It wasn’t a question.

“I do,” he said, and she stepped inside his chambers. He followed her in immediately, chest up nearly against her back as both a comfort and a pounding presence she _had_ to face head-on. The door to his quarters quickly shut and she halted in the middle of the room, glancing around. He stopped right behind her, waiting.

His quarters were dark and efficient, to the point of a complete lack of individuality. There was a miniscule bed protruding from the left-hand wall, which looked almost unused. To her right, an empty chair and med supplies neatly packed around it, with lifeless fluorescent lights illuminating the whole room in an artificial glow.

Still, behind her even as she looked around, he said nothing. Rey bit the inside of her cheek, glanced downward to her wrists in the cuffs.

“Does everyone call you Kylo here?” she finally said, shutting her eyes, hoping it was the right thing to ask.

He was so close behind her that she could feel him exhale from his nose. “Yes,” he said.

“Oh.” Then— “That’s what everyone knows you as. Here.”

He said nothing and took a step back before making his way in front of her. One, two steps until he seemed to encompass her entire vision. He wasn’t holding the lightsaber anymore—he’d probably set it down by the door. “I could feel you coming,” he said, voice as soft as ever. “Why did you come?”

“You know why,” said Rey.

There were two reasons. Both unspoken, one about to shatter in the air.

He opened his mouth and stopped, eyes locked onto hers. Rey’s tongue pressed against the roof of her mouth under the intensity of it, how everything about him screamed for her hands. Slowly, almost languid and in a trance, her wrists rose—her thumb angled toward him, toward his mouth nearly a head above her own.

His look sank down to her fingers. They curled up toward his cheek, to his mouth, the bend of his lips as he stood impossibly still, waiting.

Rey’s thumb pressed into his lower lip and his eyes darkened.

Neither one of them moved as her fingers traced the pink skin of his lips and her eyes locked on how they molded around her touch. She didn’t know where his eyes were—they felt everywhere, on her eyes, her cheeks, her own lips, on the way she sucked air in between her teeth as he exhaled with every stroke. She also didn’t know how long she spent with his chest so close to hers they might as well have been touching.

Finally, he seemed to move. One of his hands rose and, questioningly, hovered over her cheek—gloveless. It called to her and before she could think, she’d angled her mouth into his palm and shut her eyes, dragging her lips across the lines on the pale skin. Between her legs, she finally noticed the slick heat of need, amplified as her tongue dipped from her lips in curiosity.

His breath caught above her.

“Ben,” she murmured, and the air snapped.

Rey’s hands curled around either side of his jaw and dragged him down, gasping into his mouth and saying it over and over and _over_ again as he hauled her up and toward the ridiculously small bed against the wall. But it was barely a ghost of his lips before he’d ducked toward her neck, nipping the skin there as his hands slipped around her waist, up her back. Up, down, as though it wasn’t enough.

Because it _wasn’t_ enough—when she pulled away for the smallest moment to see his heady eyes pleading with her over his long nose and heard his soft groan of protest, she canted her head back up at him and let his hands wander. And, _Force_ , when she let her own hands amble as best she could with those damn cuffs around her wrists, she trailed them along that torso she’d seen on Ahch-To, the perfect panting rise and fall of his chest. Further down, across his abdomen, hidden away with his thick tunic, which at the moment she hated beyond anything else. Further—but no, it was too uncomfortable with these _damn_ cuffs—

“W-wait,” he said shudderingly against her jaw. His lips released her skin with a soft wet sound and pressed together in concentration; bent above her, fringe tickling her forehead as he worked on her cuffs, Rey found she _really_ couldn’t wait. The need between her legs was suffocating and she needed the weight of him between her thighs _right fucking now._

“Bed. Bed,” she hurried out, and his yelp of surprise turned into a gasp when she turned them around and clamored above his hips. If she couldn’t do it with her hands, she’d do it with her legs.

He seemed to have no problem with that whatsoever, hands helping to work her out of her boots and trousers, the former being thrown toward the door and the latter pushed to her ankles; she unfastened his belt (thank _fuck_ it clasped in the front) and tossed it aside. Then he was on her again, undoing her belt, throwing her sash to the floor and laying lips on her pulse point, then suckling on her clavicle. Force, he was everywhere, and he was _loud_ , raining encouragements in her ear. Crowding her in the most wonderful way. “Perfect,” he managed when she settled on top of him once his own breeches were lowered and tangled around his knees. “Rey. Y-yes.”

She had no idea what he liked (and she doubted he knew, himself), but he had _no_ problem learning it with her as she rocked back and forth along the hard ridge of his cock in his undergarments. The small line of his neck just above his collar shone with sweat as he leaned against the headboard, flashing in the light every time she moved against him.

Rey needed more of his hands. He already knew that, spanned them on either side of her waist. Up, down, again. Up, down, again—then behind, and he was pressing against the small of her back and pushing down for _more_ —and one of them moved to the front and slipped between them—

“Force,” he gasped as she whined against his neck, cock twitching beneath her, “Rey—you’re _soaking_ —”

“More. Ben, more. _Please._ ”

He couldn’t manage to reply, instead laying an open kiss on the shell of her ear and working at her with his ungloved hand. Ahch-To flashed behind Rey’s eyes, the moment in her hut seeming like years away, only a _taste_ of what she was getting now. How could she go back to a moment without this, where he seemed to fit perfectly against every single bend in her body? He was everywhere, never-ending, and having lived on a planet where delicacies were unheard of and sustenance was scarce…

… he was at her ear again, groaning with each grind against his cock, which throbbed under her wet heat…

Force, she’d never let him go.

She was wet, she could hear it even through her own undergarments. He knew it, too, and he was even harder for it. His hand had found a steady rhythm against her clit. Stroke, twirl, press, stroke, twirl, press, and the stars behind Rey’s eyes pulled her closer to him. She could almost see herself through his eyes if she weren’t so lost in the haze of it all.

“Please,” she managed, twisting on his hips; he shuddered against the skin of her neck before pulling his head away. His eyes, _R’iia._ Those eyes that looked at her with reverence. “Ben, please. More. You. _You._ ”

“Me,” he breathed; his brows drew together slightly, creasing the skin between them, eyes locked on her own. Rey’s fingers curled into the hair at the base of his neck and pressed his forehead against hers and bit her lip, eyelids fluttering shut, each breath running through her with need, heat, pulsing as his thumb swept over her clit.

He was still looking at her with that _look_ in his eyes, like she was worth the galaxy. She could feel it even when her eyes were shut. But there still wasn’t enough of _him_ , and she could rub herself against his cock for the next hour and there still wouldn’t be enough. She needed—she needed—

“What do you need, Rey,” he asked out loud, and when her eyes opened, his swollen lips quirked into the ghost of a smile.

“Y-you, closer. Closer. Please.” Without even knowing how it would work, she tugged him over, rolling to the side, nearly fell off the side of the damn bed, and hooked her arms over and around his neck.

His enormous hands finally pulled the trousers from around her ankles and tossed them toward the door with her boots. Hooking her knees above his shoulders, he descended on her jaw again, whispering inaudible promises with his wet tongue. His hips fell against that spot in between her raised legs and Rey gasped at the contact, on _fire,_ as if they were made to fit there. And _fuck,_ his cock swept against her clit like his fingers had, but it was so much _more_ of him, and each rock of it was another star behind her eyes. A hitch of his breath, a twitch of his cock, the slow grind in between her legs, delicious friction right where it should be. The lips of her cunt pulsing with need and pleasure each time he met them with his hips, each time that sweet groan escaped from between his teeth as he rubbed off against her.

She couldn’t imagine what she looked like. If she looked anything like him, skin flushed red with desire, swollen lips made to kiss her own, she thought distantly that it was worth it. That the weight of him rolling his cock between her legs was worth the connection she had with the towering, looming man above her. And he was so huge, all of him, even the length of him was almost impossible to fathom that when he swept her lips up against his again and gave her a proper fucking kiss, he thrust against her as if he were already filling the emptiness that pleaded from her core.

They didn’t have time for that now. Hopefully— _hopefully_ —they would have some later.

“Tell me what you want, Rey.” His low voice rumbled against her mouth in a daze. “Whatever you want. Please.”

“Mmmm,” because that was all she could say. All she could _breathe_ as his cock sank against her clit with each passing tick. Somehow, in the haze of it all, between locking her knees behind his hips and licking up the line of skin around his scar, she thought, _Faster,_ and aloud he said, “Okay,” and his voice broke.

Was she the one making that noise? Was that her cuffed hand that reached between them, caught the head of his cock through his undergarments as best she could? Or was that his hand steadying her against her lower stomach, forehead pressed against hers again, glancing downward where they were all but joined at the hips, where the outline of his cock slipped against her, up, down, up, down? It took all his concentration, it seemed, lips pressed together, nostrils flared and breath coming heavily against her cheeks when he looked back up and met her eyes.

He seemed almost in tears. Rey’s breath hitched in her throat and, with another murmur of his name, she traced his lower lip with her thumb once more as he rocked against her, back, forth, back, forth, back—forth—he caught her thumb with an open-mouthed kiss and the white-hot coil in her lower stomach bloomed—

“That’s it, Rey, yes,” he whispered against her thumb and she came with a shudder and soft, high-pitched keen. He followed through even after her high, even when each jolt of him was almost too much for her to bear. But then his brows curved up and furrowed together and his eyelids fell shut. The air rippled around them and she nearly came all over again as she felt him through their connection, even as he spilled inside his garments and the heat seeped between the cloth.

Force. She’d never let him go.

Her fingers curled into his hair and when his eyes opened again, still glassy, Rey chanced a smile. He didn’t smile back, instead met her with a look of awe, as though disbelieving that she was really here, and he slipped off her and to his side, not once looking away as she rolled over to face him fully, close enough to kiss. Again.

She didn’t know how long they stayed like that, with his breath mingling with hers. Eventually, her muscles began to feel sore and her legs began to chill in the colder air. “We have to go,” he said, eyes searching her as she bit the inside of her cheek again. He exhaled through his nose. “I didn’t expect… I’d only expected to talk.”

Well, of course. Neither of them had expected this, but they’d both needed it.

But reality was settling in quickly now. He meant to take her to his master. Snoke. It fouled the mood, almost. “Ben, we—we can leave.”

“No, we can’t,” he said. “I need to take you.”

“ _Why_?”

“Because of what I saw, Rey,” he said, so gently that she was about to climb him all over again. “Please.”

Rey swallowed and forced the thoughts away. “You don’t have to do this.”

He said nothing, only lowered his gaze to her cuffs and regarded them with unreadable eyes.

So she resigned herself to it, pushing up from the bed and swinging her legs over the edge. “Let’s go,” she said, “but this isn’t over.”

“I didn’t think it would be,” came his voice from behind her, still in that low, gentle cadence. As she slipped her trousers back on and tucked them into her boots, the decompress of his bed told her he was getting ready, as well. When she turned, he was struggling with his hair, and she had trouble wrapping her sash with her cuffed hands.

“Come here,” she said, meeting him halfway as he seemed to glide over. How did he control all of… _him_? The pads of Rey’s fingers smoothed his hair into an acceptable part. “Good,” she said, lowering her hands, trailing her knuckles against his scar. “How about me?”

His red-kissed lips turned upward, barely, and he took her sash from her hands. With her instructions, he wrapped it around her shoulders and tucked the belt over it, around her waist. Finally, he said, “Good.” He was still looking at her like she was worth the galaxy.

“Good,” she repeated. Two breaths and all her effort later, she managed to step away from him, even as his eyes followed hers, unblinking. “Good,” she said again.

He watched her for a moment longer, then bent down and lifted his cloak from the floor. When it settled around his shoulders (she’d had her legs hooked around those shoulders—it sounded like a faraway dream to her but _wow_ ), he stepped around her, picked up the lightsaber, and opened the door.

Rey glanced backward toward the bed. It looked very much used, now.

“After you,” came the soft lilt of his voice.

He even _sounded_ like she was worth the whole galaxy. She stepped through the threshold of his chambers and out into the hall outside. He followed her, the connection humming between them with a consistent low tremor, stronger now than she’d ever experienced back on that lonely island so far away.

When they reached the elevator, he stepped in and turned around, facing the entrance with her lightsaber in his hands. She trailed his steps and the door slipped shut behind her.

 

**Author's Note:**

> hit me up on Tumblr at [articianne](http://articianne.tumblr.com/), or at my sw side blog [haikoui](http://haikoui.tumblr.com/). thanks!


End file.
